


148 - Super Fluffy Mini Fic

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompts “one shot of Van coming home from tour to find Y/N asleep on the sofa,” “something like Van singing to you before bed? cute/fluffy please,” and  "Van coming home from tour to the apartment you live in together to find you’ve dyed your hair pink while he was gone? (fluffy feels)”





	148 - Super Fluffy Mini Fic

Headlights illuminated the room for a brief moment. It was not enough to wake you. Asleep on the couch you were dreaming of a baby girl in a Halloween costume. She wanted to go as an alligator. “Like Daddy’s music book,” she said. Nobody could figure out where she learnt about Halloween. The lock on the front door clicked, and you stirred. He was early; not due home until the morning. Still in a state of altered consciousness, not fully awake, you couldn’t move. Sleep was still paralysing you, but it wasn’t scary anymore. You listened as Van crept through the hallway and looked for you in the bedroom. The light in the kitchen went on and it cast a glow in the front lounge room too. Boots off, Van’s quiet footsteps approached. He dropped softly to his knees and brushed his fingers through your hair.

“Darlin’,” he whispered. You made a small squeaking sound. Van leant in and kissed your cheekbone. “I’m home,” he announced quietly. You could smell him. An unfamiliar shampoo, but easily recognisable cigarette brand. Underneath that, the humanness of him. The innate scent he was born with, like all people are. “Your hair is pink,”

“Mmmhmm.” You opened your eyes. The room wasn’t bright, so it didn’t hurt. Van was mostly shadow and silhouette, but his eyes sparkled still, reflecting what little light was in the room. He was looking at your hair, still brushing it out. “Do you like it?” you asked. He nodded and smiled.

“I do. You look like candy floss,” he replied. You smiled. It was quiet in the house. You could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen, and the breeze moving the wind chime outside. A floorboard creaked under Van’s weight. Everything was still. Van leant down and kissed your face again. “Can we go to bed?” When you nodded he stood up and held out both hands. Moving slowly, you sat up and let your brain settle for a moment. He pulled you up and led you through the house. Walking down the hallway Van started to speak again. “Kitten’s nose. Strawberry milkshake. Your cheeks after a shower. And your favourite lipstick.” He was listing pink things. “Them teacup pigs we saw on the internet. Flamingos. Clefairy and Jigglypuff. Larry’s favourite donuts.”

In the bedroom, you crawled straight under the covers. You were already wearing pyjamas; one of Van’s old shirts, and underwear. Van stripped down quickly, pulling track pants on over his underwear. He never slept in shirts. Combined you wore an entire outfit. In bed too, he pulled you close and you wrapped yourself around him.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

“I missed you too, darlin’. It’s getting harder, isn’t it?” You nodded as you played with his necklace. “Maybe you start comin’ with us more. Lots of room on the bus. Yeah?” You nodded again. Wherever in the world Van was, that’s where you belonged too. “Your hair smells different,”

“It’s the dye,”

“Smells good,”

“I can do yours if you want,” you said, looking up at him. He smiled down at you.

“Don’t think I can pull it off like you can.”

Your bodies settled in, missing each other and happy at the reunited contact. Sleep started to find you again. You were more warm and comfortable than you had been in weeks, and in that your mind wanted to shut down and stay. “Van? Sing for me?”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking of a song. Not needing to wait for him to say ‘yes’ because of course he would, you waited for him to start. 

“Love of mine, someday you will die but I’ll be close behind. I’ll follow you into the dark.” A song you had cried to and loved to too many times to count. You’d be asleep before he finished. “No blinding lights or tunnels to gates of white. Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark.” Maybe you were exhausted from the poor sleep you got when Van wasn’t home. Maybe you were happy to have him back. Maybe you were so overwhelmed with love that your body needed to produce a physical manifestation of that. Whatever the reason, a tear formed and dripped down your cheek. “If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied, illuminate the nos on their vacancy signs. If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I’ll follow you into the dark.”


End file.
